Guess what day it is?

funny, humor,laugh,children,parents,

5:58 pm. Today.

Rachel: Hi Dad!
Dad: GUESS WHAT DAY IT IS?
Rachel: What?
Dad: GUESS WHAT DAY IT IS?
Rachel: DAD! Why are you yelling?
Dad: GUESS WHAT DAY IT IS?
Rachel: OK Dad.  It’s Monday. What’s Up?
Dad: You didn’t return my call last night.
Rachel: I didn’t have time.  I was busy studying for a big test.
Dad: Really?
Rachel: Really.
Dad: GUESS WHAT DAY IT IS?
Rachel: (Silence. She’s been at this show before. Boom coming down)
Dad: Honey, today is PARENTS’ APPRECIATION DAY!
Rachel: What?
Dad: Yes. From 7pm to 10pm, you will appreciate your Parents.
Rachel: (Silence. She’s not sure where this is going but she knows it’s a bad place.)
Dad: I checked our bill during the time you were busy doing homework last night.
Dad: Looks like you had plenty of time to send text messages to your friends.
Rachel: (More silence)
Dad: So, your cell service will be cut off from 7pm to 10pm.
Rachel: OK Dad.
Dad: Love you Honey. Can you hear me now?

 


Image Credit

21. And counting.

black and white; photography

She turned 21.

Our celebration dinner was at home earlier in the week.
Family was seated together. She was at the head of the table.
Champagne glasses filled. Dad with his Snapple. A Toast.
Her favorites. Cheesy Parmigiano-Reggiano breaded chicken breasts.
Buttery mashed potatoes. Long stemmed broccoli and cheese.
Followed by vanilla flavored birthday cake with thick gobs of frosting.
Cards from Grandparents.
Earrings.
She opens a small box from her Brother. Beaming. She slides on a ring.
I turn my head away to keep it together.
Discussion turns from sharing stories to plans for the evening.

“I’m staying in the city with a friend.”
“You mean you’re not coming home tonight?”
“No, Dad”

Flash of anger. Rolling to disappointment. Then settling into Sad. Turning deep, down and inward.

Dad’s leaning into a gushing current.
Water rushing over, under, through.
Hopeless to stop it. Yet he keeps trying.

Happy Birthday Honey…


Mom vs. Dad

funny, true, parents, children,parenting, son, daughter, mom v dad


Mom’s + Dad’s: Your gems are?


Adapted from 9gag.com

Water

photography

Circa 1998.

Miami.

July.

Sundays.

Eric is four. Relentless. “Come on Dad. It’s time to go swimming.” Pulling on my hand. “Come on Dad. Dad, come on!”

The marble floor in the bathroom is cool and smooth on our bare feet. I watch him struggle tugging on his suit. His little white bottom contrasting against his milk chocolate tan lines. He lets out a whimper in frustration as he can’t pull on his swim shirt.

We step outside.

We had lived in Miami for four years. The sweltering summer heat was still a shock. Swallowing up oxygen. Mixing with the heavy pool chlorine…filling nostrils and lungs.

10am. 91F. And there is still August to go.

[Read more…]

The Last Supper.

dinner-vacation-photo

I was running the rough math in my head. They have been subjected to over 100,000 “course corrections” during their lifetimes.

Wash your hands. Tie your laces. Look people in the eye. Use a firm handshake. Wipe your face. Keep your voice down. Sit up. Comb your hair. Brush your teeth. Pick up your things. Put on clean clothes. Don’t yell. Get along with your Brother. Get along with your Sister. Say please. Say thank you. Say you are sorry. ENOUGH TV.  Read. Get to sleep. Go to the bathroom before we leave the house. Enough candy. Do your homework.  Plus 1000 others.  And, certainly not all of them delivered with finesse or a light touch. When you are molding a sculpture, some rough chops are necessary. And per the King’s rules, as long as the game is played within the fences and by the house rules, all is good.

In the early days, dinner out entertainment included “I Spy.” Coloring books and crayons. Stacking cream containers to see who could make the largest tower. And, guessing how many sugar packets there were in my hand. Our kids would not create havoc for other patrons.

Fast forward 18 years and we’re sitting at dinner last night. Not unlike one of hundreds of Saturday dinners out with our family since they were toddlers. And a mere few days before the nest empties for the first time.

As we were leaving the restaurant, Susan told me that the Gentleman serving us said: “You can imagine that we see all kinds here. I just wanted to tell you that your children are respectful. They say please and thank you. They are so kind.”

100,000 course corrections. Day after day after day. Some of them must have hit the mark.

I dropped my head and turned away. Men don’t cry.

 


Photo Source: Eric Kanigan

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